


Pools

by Youholdmenow



Category: BLACKPINK (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 03:28:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20075377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Youholdmenow/pseuds/Youholdmenow
Summary: Kinda inspired Niki's song "Pools" but kinda not; college au where Rosé finds herself going to parties every week to find a particular girl





	Pools

**Author's Note:**

> lol I'm really on a roll at posting chaelisa fanfics, aren't I?

She doesn’t know why she’s here. She doesn’t know why she decided it was a good idea to show up at the doorsteps of the frat house to overcrowded rooms of girls grinding on boys, and boys looking for their next one nightstand. She’s not a party person; some people were shocked to see her even show up to this one with whispers of, “is Rosé really here at a frat party?” Maybe she was tired of being the only person on her floor. Maybe she was tired of always having her face in a book at night, studying her worries away. Maybe she was tired of drinking alone in her room, yet she is doing that now: taking gulps out of a red solo cup on a couch, interacting with no one, folding into herself as both ends are taken up by drunk, sloppy make out sessions. 

The room she sits in is hot. It is hot with the heavy breaths and laughs of drunk college students, looking to forget their worries with too much alcohol and too many kinds of drugs she doesn’t dare try to know. Too many bodies grinding against each other. Too many of everything, and she is sure she feels light-headed without taking into account the alcohol in her system.

In the far corner of the room, she eyes a girl that she’s already seen a few times already tonight. The mystery girl has already bounced around the room, conversing with anyone and everyone. She wishes she could be the mystery girl, so full of energy, so full of joy, so full of light in such a dimly lit frat room. This time, she sees the mystery girl is backed into the wall as a frat boy kisses her roughly, his hands roaming her body. His hands at some points go beneath her untucked blouse. She pushes him away from her slightly as if to signal she wanted him to stop, but he keeps going, his body so hungry for the mystery girl. 

She would be lying if she didn’t say the sight of the mystery girl and the frat boy didn’t sit in her stomach will. She would be lying if she didn’t say she wasn’t just a bit worried for the mystery girl. So, she gets up and does what any woman would do when she sees a situation she herself wouldn’t have wanted to be in: she goes to intervene. 

As she gets closer, she can hear the mystery girl now. She mumbles a slurred “stop,” “no,” and “I don’t want this,” but the frat boy keeps going, his large body pinning down the mystery girl’s small frame. His unrelenting hands keep roaming, and Rosé would be lying if she said her blood didn’t boil at that moment. 

“Hey, you! I was just looking for you,” Rosé says loudly to make sure both the frat boy and the mystery girl can hear her. They turn to face her, and the mystery girl gives another attempt to trying to push to large frat boy’s body off of her. The frat boy scoffs. 

“Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something?” Rosé pays no attention to him but rather focuses on the way the mystery girl mouths “help” to Rosé with desperation in her eyes. 

“Yeah, but I promised her I’d take her back to her dorm early because she has a chem exam tomorrow. Everyone knows how Professor Henderson gets.” Rosé pulls the mystery girl from beneath him, and the mystery girl stumbles into Rosé’s chest. The frat boy rolls his eyes and huffs. “Sorry to ruin your night. I’m sure there are plenty of girls here who would love to be with a cute guy like you.” 

She smiles, and she walks the mystery girl out and away from the frat house with the mystery girl’s head still on her chest. The night sky is chilly with an early winter breeze blowing, and she feels the mystery girl shiver against her. Without a second thought, Rosé takes her scarf she grabbed from the coat check room on their way out and wraps it around the mystery girl. The mystery girl nuzzles into the scarf and Rosé. The mystery girl stumbles a bit even with Rosé propping her up, and Rosé wonders what would have happened to the mystery girl tonight if she didn’t step in. 

“Hey,” Rosé whispers, stopping in front of her own building. The mystery girl looks up from Rosé’s chest, and they make eye contact. “My apartment is right here, and I don’t walk you walking to your dorm alone. Do you want to crash the night just so you’re safe?” 

The mystery girl nods and, with the help of Rosé, stumbles up two flights of stairs and into Rosé empty room. Right as doors open, the mystery girl pushes her way through to the bathroom and throws up in the toilet, her slender fingers clutching onto the white porcelain bowl. After Rosé locks the door behind her, she goes to hold the mystery girl’s hair, tucking loose strands behind her ears, and rubbing her back. The mystery girl whimpers at the vomit reflex as another round of fluids come up out of her lips and into the towel bowl. Rosé hushes her gently, rubbing circles into her back. 

Rosé grabs an unused toothbrush from the cabinet and gives it to the mystery girl after putting some of her own toothpaste on it. Rosé goes to grab an extra shirt and pair of underwear for the mystery girl, laying it on the bed. She also sets out an extra set of clothing in the morning for the mystery girl, in case she doesn’t want to wear the outfit from tonight that reeks with the smell of alcohol. She begins to pile extra blankets and pillows onto the floor for herself, ready to give her bed to the mystery girl. She grabs her bottle of painkillers and a water bottle, setting it on the counter with a messy note for the mystery girl in the morning: “for your hangover.” 

Rosé begins to change, topless in the process until she is startled by the image of the mystery girl staring at her, confused and unsure what to do. Rosé yelps after being startled, covering her chest but continues to change in front of her. 

“I laid some clothes out for you to change into for tonight. There's some clothes here for tomorrow morning too. You can sleep in my bed while I sleep on the floor.” 

“I can sleep on the floor. It’s your bed,” the mystery girl mumbles. The mystery girl walks toward Rosé but stumbles, and Rosé catches the mystery girl in her arms. Rosé sits the mystery girl onto the bed and begins to help her change, gently undressing her until she is left naked for a split second. Rosé blushes in the darkness at the sight of the girl. Her eyes watch her intently as Rosé continues to help her change, and she wonders if the mystery girl can see the tint of pink on her cheeks through the darkness. Rosé is about to step away and sit down on the floor, when a gentle hand grasps her wrist, pulling her toward the mystery girl. 

“Stay with me on the bed, please. I don’t want to be alone after tonight.” So Rosé does. Rosé climbs into the bed and pulls the covers over the both of them. She kisses the mystery girl on the forehead though she is unsure why she does. She turns to her side to face the mystery girl, and Rosé is greeted with dark eyes staring back at her. The mystery girl’s bangs tilted toward the bed, poking at her eyes, and Rosé reaches to tuck the sides behind her ear again. 

“Thank you,” the mystery girl whispers gently, “I don’t know what would have happened to me if you didn’t help.” Rosé smiles, reaching for the mystery girl’s thigh and squeezing it gently in reassurance. 

“I think we should get some sleep.” 

Rosé woke up to an empty bed. She looks for the alarm on her bed but notices the missing water bottle and painkillers instead. She notices the note she left for the mystery girl last night is turned around with another scribble on it. When she finds her alarm and remembers she does not have classes today, she laughs at herself. She sits up on her bed, and sees the blankets and pillows she left on the floor from last night and folded and neatly stacked into a pile. The pajamas the mystery girl wore last night are folded as well with a sticky note that reads “still needs to be washed.” 

Rosé reaches for the note to read it, smiling when she notices how messy the handwriting is. “Thank you for last night. I hope to see you around sometime without me being piss drunk. Lisa.” 

Even with the note, Rosé is sure she won’t see Lisa again, yet she thinks about her. She thinks about the way her lips spread and curved into a tiny smile. She thinks about the way Lisa’s eyes screamed wonder, glistened and glazed with lust that night. She wonders if it was only because Lisa was intoxicated beyond functioning. 

So she finds herself at the frat house again. Rosé finds herself looking for the slim body with a face framed with perfectly chopped bangs that covered her eyebrows. She downs another solo cup of alcohol, feeling it burn her throat until she sees Lisa among the crowd on the dance floor. She has a bottle in her hand and is chugging the drink away. Rosé wonders if she is trying to drink the memory something away. Rosé watches as other girls grind on Lisa and wonders if she should be one of those girls. Rosé watches how Lisa stares at the girls’ bodies, unfazed by the grinding even though Lisa reciprocated the grinding motion. 

Lisa looks up and sees Rosé, giving her a shy smile before motioning for Rosé to come to her, to join her on the dance floor. Rosé walks toward Lisa slowly, watching Lisa push all the other girls off of her to make a path to get to Rosé. When Lisa gets closer, Rosé can smell the cigarette smoke on Lisa’s revealing clothing and alcohol on her lips. Even in a room full of alcohol, Rosé feels more intoxicated by the smell of alcohol radiating off of Lisa. 

“My guardian angel,” Lisa whispers into Rosé’s ear as her arms wrap around Rosé’s slim waist, and Rosé feels a shiver run down her spine. Rosé drapes her arms over Lisa’s shoulders. “I was hoping I’d find you here.” 

“You know where I live Lisa.” 

“There’s no fun in that,” Lisa says as Rosé feels Lisa slowly rock her hips against her. “Besides, I still don’t know your name.” 

“Rosé.” 

“Mmm that’s such a pretty name,” Lisa says softly dragging her lips against Rosé’s ear before breaking away from Rosé, releasing her hold of Rosé’s waist. Rosé watches Lisa leave the middle of the dance floor and to the back table where all the alcohol was, reaching for one too many drinks. She watches Lisa down all those drinks from afar as frat boys behind to reach for Rosé’s hips, swaying against her back. Rosé lets them, giving her attention only to the blonde banged girl who keeps drinking. 

Rosé brings Lisa home again. Lisa stumbles, whimpers, vomits. It is the same as the week before. Rosé leads Lisa up the stairs. Rosé holds her hair back while Lisa throws up in her toilet. Rosé hands Lisa an unused toothbrush with her own toothpaste on it. She sets clothes and painkillers out while Lisa watches. Rosé helps Lisa change out of her clothes. Rosé tucks them both into the same bed, and Rosé kisses Lisa’s forehead, wishing her goodnight. In the morning, Lisa is gone away with only a note thanking Rosé and everything folded neatly in a pile to show Lisa was ever there. 

It is the same routine every Friday night for months. Rosé comes to the frat party only to find Lisa and brings a shit-faced, ash-colored brunette back to her apartment to tuck into bed and whisper goodnight. There is a second toothbrush just for Lisa. There is a pile of clothes Rosé has set out just for Lisa even though Lisa never returns the clothes she takes for the morning. Rosé doesn’t mind, and Lisa never protests, but Rosé feels that it is because Lisa is too intoxicated to think. Rosé stays up those nights wondering why she keeps doing this, why she keeps taking care of the ash brown-haired. She wonders why she feels her chest tighten when Lisa sways her hips against her at the frat party. She wonders why her stomach flips inside out when the younger girl tugs Rosé closer to her until there is no space between them. 

Rosé doesn’t know Lisa. In the months of this routine, their scattered conversations only have occurred when Lisa was wasted beyond consciousness. Rosé doesn’t know anything about her other the brief questions during the minutes Lisa is less intoxicated grinding against her before she heads to drink dry the alcohol supply for the night or after sweaty, drunk sex. Rosé has so many questions. Rosé has so many worries when it comes to Lisa, yet Lisa doesn’t seem to notice or care. 

Lisa just flirts and gets drunk and knows Rosé will take care of her. In the months after their first few encounters, Lisa waits for Rosé to take care of her, tuck them into bed, before kissing Rosé’s body, her fingers roaming her body. Lisa tells her she’s gorgeous. Rosé whispers her name into the night, afraid to wake her neighbors between the thin walls. Lisa tells Rosé after her aspirations after university, tells Rosé through her state of intoxication she wants to be with her forever. Lisa tells her about the oddest of things after drunken sex, and Rosé can’t help but fall in love with the stranger in her bed. 

Then, Lisa leaves the next morning again, and Rosé is left naked and vulnerable on a Saturday morning. Rosé lets Lisa touch her and feel her in anyway Lisa wants, but she knows she can’t keep this up. She can’t keep letting her heart hurt for no reason if she doesn’t know Lisa’s intentions. She can’t keep it up if she is just Lisa’s one night stand every Friday night. 

So one Friday, Rosé doesn’t show up to the frat party. Rosé stays at home after an already rough day, drinking her sorrows away alone. She takes multiple swigs at a soju bottle. There are empty ones already scattered across the floor of her bedroom. She laughs at herself before starting to cry, then knocking things off her nightstand in a fit of rags before crying again. She’s not sure why she’s so angry tonight. She’s not sure why she’s so upset and heartbroken tonight. 

It is 1AM when Rosé hears a soft knock on her apartment door. When Rosé goes to open it, she finds Lisa waiting on the other side, standing without a stumble or hint of intoxication. There is a gentle smile on her face before it falters into a frown. 

“You wreak of liquor.”

“Why are you here?” 

“Why weren’t you at the party?” 

“I don’t have to go to a frat party every night just so you can come to my home shit-faced drunk and have me take care of you only to use as a fuck toy,” Rosé’s eyes widen at her own words, and she covered her mouth. Lisa looks down, watching herself dig her shoes into the hallway carpet. 

“Can I come in, Rosie?” Lisa asks, and Rosé swears this is the first time Lisa has said something so gentle to her as if Lisa was afraid her words would break Rosé. She moves to make way for Lisa but stumbles from the alcohol, and it is Lisa who catches her. Lisa holds her waist as if they were in a movie, and Rosé wishes Lisa would just kiss her already. 

Before either could say another, Rosé runs to the bathroom to vomit all the contents out of her body. Lisa tucks her hair away from her face, rubbing her back softly. 

“Let me take care of you for tonight,” Lisa says, and all Rosé can do is nod before more stomach contents left her lips. Rosé feels like she is watching a mirror of herself. Lisa helps her brush her teeth. Lisa sets out painkillers and a water bottle for Rosé. Lisa picks up the scattered pieces of paper and shards of broken objects from Rosé’s drunken fit of rage without questions. Lisa sits her up on the mattress. Lisa helps her change. Lisa whispers her ear, telling Rosé’s she’s beautiful when her top and bra comes off. Lisa kisses her collar bones gently before pulling the pajama shirt down to Rosé’s body. Lisa kisses her forehead when she tucks Rosé in, and Rosé feels her heart beat faster now. Lisa makes her way to leave the apartment before Rosé grabs her wrist. 

“Please, Lisa. Stay for once,” Rosé whispers. Lisa nods and climbs into bed with Rosé. Lisa turns, and they are facing each other in the dark, eyes locked on each other. Rosé smiles, and Lisa begins to laugh. 

“I have your clothes in the bag at the door.” 

“My clothes?” 

“The ones you let me sleep in and change into. I’ve been sleeping in them, but I thought maybe I should give them back.” Her gentle laughter turns to tears, and she pulls Rosé closer, burying her head into the crook of Rosé’s neck. 

“I’m scared Rosie,” Lisa’s voice is muffled against her skin in breathy whispers, and Rosé shivers. 

“Of what?” 

“Of you. Of this.” 

“Why are you scared, Lisa?” Rosé asks softly, “You’re the one playing me though.” The words sink in, and Rosé laughs at how her own words are a slap in the face. Lisa parts from Rosé’s neck, and they face each other, staring into the abyss of each other’s eyes. She looks as if she is about to say something but all Lisa does is kiss Rosé on her forehead before stroking her hair gently. Rosé finds herself falling asleep, to muffled words of “I think I’m in love with you, and I just don’t know how to show you, Rosie.” Rosé is sure she has heard wrong. 

Yet when she wakes up the next morning, she finds that Lisa is still there as Rosé’s head sits on Lisa’s chest.


End file.
